


it drives you crazy, getting old

by Anonymous



Series: setting fire to our insides (just for fun) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Use, Homie is having a straight up bad time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Suicidal Thoughts, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur Soot-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: it’s the road to ruin, and Wilbur feels like he’s started at the end.or(Wilbur’s in his final year of school. Everything should be falling into place, predictably, it does everything but that.)
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Look Everyone Is Friends In Some Way, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: setting fire to our insides (just for fun) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217780
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is entirely based off of the RP personas, and not the real people.
> 
> Chapter Warning: Alcohol, Drug Use, Brief mentions of self-harm, and puke.

“Fundy this tastes like fucking shit.” Wilbur grunts as Fundy laughs at him, making a similar sour face at the foul-tasting drink in his mouth as Wilbur. He doesn’t know why he even lets Fundy talk him into these sorts of things, he’s not sure what’s even in this. 

Maybe it’s the growing fog in his head; he’s already downed more drinks than what was probably healthy- actually none of this is healthy- not to mention the countless bongs he’s ripped with Sapnap and Dream. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s been high since he woke up this morning, and then him and Schlatt ditched half the school day to get high in his truck.

  
Like he’s said; he’s not the pinnacle of healthy decisions. 

  
He puts the cup down, turning to stumble back to the circle of chairs towards the middle of the patio where most of his other friends sit, all of them in various states of fucked up. He drops down next to Schlatt, the other boy halfway through lighting another joint, passing it to Wilbur with only a knowing look. 

Wilbur takes it, obviously. It barely burns as he inhales, and he spares a brief thought of  _ ‘he probably shouldn’t be so used to this.’  _ before it's firmly replaced with another head rush. His fingers tingle as he passes it back, and watches through half-lidded eyes as Schlatt passes it over to Quackity. 

  
He leans back, listening to the mumbled chatter of his friends, as he stares at the growing darkness through the sky, chasing away the yellows and oranges. He hasn’t checked his phone for hours, he just knows it's sometime after 9pm. 

He told Phil he was going to work on a project with Schlatt, he doesn’t know if Phil even believed him but he didn’t say anything, so neither will Wilbur. Instead he’s at a party with blaring music, downing more shots than he can remember, and pretending like life isn’t falling apart around him.    
  


Dream stumbles over to the rest of them, dragging a red-eyed George behind him who almost looks ready to fall asleep as he’s being dragged over to them.    
  
“Enjoy yourself in there, did we?” Quackity leers, as George rolls his eyes and Dream just winks.    
  
Everyone knew that the two were just getting high, probably hotboxing one of Dream’s bathrooms, but it was still amusing to joke about. Normally Wilbur would be worried about them getting caught by parents, or siblings, but it had been firmly established that Dream’s parents weren’t home very often, and his little sister, Drista, was out with her friends most of the time. 

  
Hence why they usually had parties at Dream’s house; it posed less risk of getting absolutely busted. 

“Hey, anyone remember when Fundy fucked up and got high right before one of his classes, and then he had that exam?” Karl laughs, and honestly Wilbur didn’t even know the other teen was here. But he was, sitting slouched next to Sapnap with a high-flush across his cheeks. He’s not sure it's from the alcohol.    
  
He was so going to bully both of them for that at some point, Wilbur thinks, pocketing the information with a sly look in Schlatt’s direction, a look that his best friend returns. 

“Shut the fuck up, I swear. That was awful, I thought I was fucking ascending to another dimension.” Fundy snaps from where he’s slouched on the ground next to Niki. 

Wilbur remembers that day, he’d just had a huge fight with Techno before they left for school, over some dumb shit that didn’t really matter. And he spent most of the day pretending nothing had happened, laughing at Fundy’s misfortune, and then getting tipsy in Schlatts truck. 

“The teacher asked if you were okay and you stared at her for a long ass time before you responded. I thought Dream was going to piss himself laughing.” 

“It was close.” Dream adds in, nodding in fake seriousness, nursing a cup of some brightly coloured drink. 

“Hey Wilbur! You up for karaoke?!” Sapnap shouts, drawing Wilbur’s attention to him. He had been waiting for somebody to mention karaoke, it always happened once at these parties. 

One of his fondest memories is listening to Karl and Sapnap sing a duet of Sia's Chandelier, only to have Karl hit the high note spectacularly, and then fall face-first into the dirt off of their makeshift stage. It was really just a barely-stable table that they stood on and tried not to think about how much it would hurt if someone stuck their foot through it. 

Wilbur would know, this was their second table-stage, and Wilbur likes to pretend he has no idea what happened to the first. He’s sworn everyone to secrecy.    
  
_ (He knows that Schlatt still has the video saved to his phone, Wilbur hopes forever that he has enough blackmail on Schlatt to never show it.)  _

“Abso-fucking-loutely!” He shouts back, or thinks he does at least, because he sees Schlatt throw him a look as he snickers, and suddenly he’s not sure what he said was coherent words at all. He stands up far-too quickly, and wobbles there for a moment as the world spins.    
  
“You good Will?” Niki calls over the thumping of the music, and in his head. 

“Yeah, just peachy!” 

He thinks he sees someone pull out their phone, and he spares a moment to plead to whatever god that's out there, that whatever videos are getting recorded will  _ not  _ end up on somebody's story where either of his brothers can see it. He doesn’t want Tommy to see this shit, and it’s certainly not ideal if Techno sees. He doesn’t want either of them snitching to Phil. 

As long as he can make it through the song without passing out; it’ll all be fine. 

  
  
  
  


______________________

  
  
  


It was not fine however. Wilbur groans as he wakes up, squeezing his eyes shut again at the bright light filtering through his curtains. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but it was far too bright already. 

He lays there for a moment, taking in the pounding in his head, and the nausea rolling through his stomach, before it makes itself very evident, and he’s yanking off his covers to bolt to his bathroom. Dropping to his knees in time to hurl anything he had eaten yesterday. Which come to think of it was mostly just alcohol and these weird fucking chips Dream had gotten from somewhere he wasn’t willing to share. 

They tasted like what Wilbur imagined the physical embodiment of death would taste like.    
  
So obviously, they ate the entire bags. 

He was certainly regretting that decision when he’s hurling up said chips into his toilet. He flushes it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stumbles his way over to the sink to splash some cold water on his face, he makes eye-contact with the mirror and his first thought is just;

_ ‘Wow. I look like shit.”  _

And it was true, his skin was a gross pale colour, and his hair was flat beneath the beanie that was still somehow on his head. He’s wearing a shirt he’s pretty sure he’s had since he was a freshman, he’s not even sure where it fucking came from; didn’t he get rid of all his old clothes during a ‘deep clean’?

He doesn't particularly remember coming home last night, except that it would have been way after everyone had gone to bed. He thinks he might remember seeing Techno in the kitchen at that time, looking like a deer in headlights as he fumbled through one of their drawers. He honestly couldn’t see straight enough to care. 

  
He’s also pretty sure he remembers celebrating the early morning 4:20 with Sapnap and Dream, the only two of the others that hadn’t either passed out already, or called it in and headed to one of Dream’s guest rooms.

After that things begin to get a bit more unclear. 

He must have walked home, gods knows he or anyone at that party would have crashed the car the moment they got behind the wheel. It would explain why he had a couple of leaves in his hair, and his legs were aching. 

  
Dream didn’t live too far away, probably a 35 minute walk by foot. Wilbur always cut through the trees on the left side of his friends house, he liked walking past the shallow river. 

He hauls himself out of the bathroom after a moment of clenching the sink with sore hands, listening for the sounds of anyone moving around the house.    
  
There aren't any.    
  
He doesn’t know if that makes him more relieved or not. At least he didn’t need to pretend he wasn’t hungover and felt like he was dying slightly. It certainly wasn’t the worst hangover he’s ever had, but it was definitely up there. 

He stumbles back to his room, detouring slightly to grab some juice and tylenol as he does. He picks up his phone, groaning at the  _ 5%  _ battery indicator, and he plugs it in with minimal difficulty as he opens up his messages app. Eyes adjusting to the red inbox notifications.    
  
He clicks on their main group chat, the one that was mostly just used to talk about party things and shitty decisions. 

_ Fundy: anyone know why I woke up in Dream’s fucking pantry  _

_ Schlatt: lmao loser  _

_ Fundy: shut the fuck up  _

_ Dream: you cried over my biscuit collection at like 3am and passed out  _

_ Dream: I couldn’t be fucked moving you  _

_ Fundy: I feel so loved </3  _

_ Dream: :)  _

He closes the group chat after that, not quite having the energy to backread everything. He opens up the message from his dad instead.

_ Dad unit: Hey Will! Just took the other two out to the mall. Text me if you need anything. _

_ Me: orange juice pls  _

_ Me: and gummy worms _

_ Dad unit: Will do.  _

The thought of food right now makes his stomach churn, but he knew he would want them later. 

Wilbur flips open the container at the back of his bedside table, pulling out a joint as he does. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but he’s pretty sure Phil trusts him enough that he wouldn't even question it, would put it down to something to do with his music. 

_  
_ He feels guilty everytime he remembers that he’s actively betraying his dad's trust. 

He tries not to think about it. 

He was hanging out with Schlatt later today anyway, he might as well haul himself into the shower, he smelt like stale smoke and cheap beer, and that was never a good smell when combined. 

  
  
  


_ _______________  _

  
  


Family dinners fucking sucked. They were awkward and uncomfortable and Wilbur is pretty sure he’s the only one feeling the growing awkwardness. Then again that could just be because he had been high with Schlatt all day, and was only just starting to come down from said-high.    
  
He spares a look at Techno, who had been quiet for most of dinner, instead staring at his plate with a blank stare, one that their dad definitely notices judging by the concerned look Phil is shooting Techno between conversations with Tommy. At least his twin apparently shared his need to escape from this. 

“Wilbur! How was Schlatts?” Phils voice jolts him out of his thoughts, and he flushes red at the sight of both Tommy and Phil’s expectant gazes on him. Techno has flicked his eyes up to glance at him through pink hair. 

“Oh uh, it was good, we just watched shitty movies in his room and stuff.”    
  
“What movies?” Tommy pipes up, and Wilbur has never wanted to kick his little brother's ass so hard.    
  
“The ring. Schlatt was terrified. And then we watched one of the saw movies. ” They never even touched the movies. The lie tastes bitter. They spent the entire time sitting by the old creek, with their feet in the water, and talking about whatever gossip was going around at the kids at their school while off their heads. 

  
It was one of the best days Wilbur’s had for a while.    
  
He doesn’t want to think about what that means for him. 

“We should watch a horror movie tonight.” Tommy yells excitedly, and Wilbur genuinely laughs, reaching over to ruffle his little brother's hair.   
  
“Tommy you’re terrified of ghosts.” He vividly remembers when they were all just a bit younger, Techno and him both about Tommy’s age now, decided to watch one of the Conjuring movies, and Tommy, who would have been maybe 11 at the time demanded to watch it with them.    
  
He got through the movie. And then refused to sleep by himself for two weeks.    
  
It was something Wilbur teased him for without any malice. Still, he hadn’t watched horror movies with them since. 

  
“Bitch! I am not, I am a big man. Phil agree with me.” Tommy snaps back, swinging his head around to look at a both tired and amused Phil. 

“Are you going to be able to sleep by yourself?”    
  
“Yes!”    
  
“I suppose we can watch one tonight then.” Phil says contemplatively, and Tommy cheers in the background. Wilbur presses his fingers onto a bruise beneath his jeans. He was really hoping to be able to crawl into his bed and stare at the ceiling for a few hours.    
  
Still, it had been growing more rare these days that they all spent time together, so he kind of didn’t want to reject this opportunity. He glances at Techno briefly, whose fingers are clenched tightly around his cutlery.    
  
Maybe it would be good for them to not be by themselves for once. For his brothers sake of course. 

“Sounds good. I dibs choosing it.” Wilbur agrees, pasting a smile on his face that he hopes doesn’t look too brittle.    
  
“Can I be excused to the bathroom real quick please?” Techno speaks up suddenly, and it’s the first time he’s spoken throughout this dinner unprompted.    
  
“Course Tech, are you alright?” Phil agrees.   
  
“Yeah, just need to piss.” Techno mutters back, sliding out his seat.   
  


Wilbur knows an excuse when he sees one, but he’s also not in a good position to judge. Techno will come to him if something is wrong. He turns back to Tommy, teasing him about something to do with Tubbo and Ranboo as he shouts at him.    
  
It’s almost pleasant. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur goes to another party and low-key has an existential crisis about the future. Him and Techno pretend they aren’t falling apart.

It was a lovely Wednesday night, it really was; the blue of the sky was slowly being overtaken by shades of yellow and pink, and it thankfully wasn’t too hot, or too cold. It was a lovely day, and instead of eating shitty Lucky Charms in his room, he was being poisoned by his friends. 

Well not technically poisoned he supposed, but the drink he was just given certainly felt like an attempt. 

**“** I fucking hate you guys so much.” Wilbur spits out, eyeing the strangely neon drink his hand- were those fucking  _ chunks  _ in it?- that Quackity had stuck in his hand with fake-innocence. 

“Start chugging, Soot.” Quackity hollers, surprisingly loud considering they were once again standing in Dream’s kitchen together. 

“ _ What’s in it?”  _   
  
“I don’t remember!” Quackity cheerily exclaims, and Wilbur goes silent for a moment, mentally rethinking everything that led him to this moment as he tips his head back, downing the drink in a few horrible gulps. 

Immediately he splutters, coughing slightly as it goes down. The others howl with laughter, and Wilbur is too busy trying not to immediately throw it back up. It burnt as it went down, so god-knows what exactly was in there. 

“Quackity I am never going to forgive you for that.” Wilbur nods solemnly, sending a glare in the other beanie-clad boys direction. 

  
Quackity just lets out a laugh as he skids off into Karl and Sapnap’s direction, holding twin cups of horror in his hands. Wilbur would feel bad for what they were about to go through, except Sapnap tried to convince Wilbur that his bones were crawling out of his skin the last time they got super-high together, so he’s not feeling sympathetic to Sapnap at the moment. 

“Aren’t your brothers  _ and  _ dad both home tonight? You’re absolutely going to get busted.” Schlatt questions, slinging an arm around Wilbur’s shoulders. 

“Tommy gets made to go to bed by 9:30 on school nights, and Phil has work at 8am. Techno would be the only one I’d see and he’s chill.” It takes an indescribable amount of effort to get that full sentence out. Maybe that drink was stronger than he thought. 

“What time do you even have to be home by?” Schlatt’s directing them back over to the patio chairs.    
  
He feels like he spends an awful amount of time on these chairs. 

“Like 11 or some shit.” 

Schlatt is pulling a joint from somewhere the moment they sit down, lighting it up and handing it to Wilbur after a moment. Wilbur takes it. 

“Late curfew man, always figured your dad would be super protective about that.” George interrupts, and somewhere along in the conversation, the group of them had gravitated to the chairs. 

It’s familiar, it’s a comforting sight. 

“Nah. He used to be honestly, and then Techno and I crafted a full argument and presented it to Phil when we were 15 and got it extended for certain circumstances.” It’s one of his fondest memories, sitting there with Techno and trying to think about what to put in this speech. Tommy had only been with them for just over a year.    
  
It was a more peaceful time, at least. 

He watches Dream shift out the corner of his eye, and he thinks that the expression on the other teens face would show uncomfortableness if he wasn’t as high as he was. He remembers with a start that Dream and Techno have been friends as long as he and Schlatt have.    
  
Something had happened between Techno and Dream, something neither of them had really spoken about, Wilbur just remembers Techno coming back in a filthy mood, barely sparing Tommy and him a look as he stomped to his room, not coming out until dinner that night. That and through the haze that most nights were becoming, he briefly remembers Dream hissing something about “ _ Fucking Technoblade-”  _ to George and Sapnap, before cutting himself off with another drink.    
  
Wilbur didn’t ask about it. Him and Schlatt fight plenty of the time; he’s sure the two would sort it out soon. 

“Why does that literally not surprise me.” Karl laughs, and Wilbur cracks a smile in response, sinking into the cushions behind him.    
  
“Go big or go home, you know.” 

“Oh! While I remember, has anyone filled out those fucking forms we got handed about career goals and shit?” Dream asks suddenly, suddenly looking more awake than he had all night.

Wilbur heard multiple groans from the rest of them, and he’s glad at least that it’s not just him that’s been avoiding them like they would kill him if he touched them.

“What do I look like? A functional person?” Schlatt jokes, and Wilbur snorts alongside him.

“Please, we both know your plan is to get mega rich selling drugs to shitty high schoolers.” Quality pipes up, snickering at the glare Schlatt shot his way.

“Man if it works, it works.” Schlatt has absolutely no idea what he wants to do with his future, Wilbur knows that for a fact. He vividly remembers sitting with their legs over the gutters of Schlatt’s roof, talking about the absolute blackhole that life post-high school felt like. 

A life that has been rapidly approaching faster than Wilbur was quite prepared for. It was weird to think that they had just over one semester left before it was graduation, before they were legally allowed to do whatever the fuck they wanted. 

It was as daunting as it was exhilarating.

Sadly the whole “rapidly approaching freedom from high school” meant that every class was somehow getting on their ass about  _ universities,  _ and  _ good grades get good jobs,  _ and that they  _ need  _ to know what their career pathways are.

_ (How the fuck does Wilbur explain that he can’t think about the future without wanting to throw up. Wilbur knew how he was going right now, he doesn’t have a career pathway because he assumed he would have been dead by now.)  _

“I put something about wanting to go into baking, made it sound pretty enough that they accepted it.” Niki adds, cutting through the silence that had fallen, all of them distracted by their upcoming graduation. 

“Niki you should open up a bakery, we’d all come work for you.” Sapnap jokes, and Wilbur finds it as ridiculous as it does inviting.

It hit him sometimes how they were all likely to go their own ways after highschool. Some of them would probably stay friends, at least the ones that had formed their own ‘mini-squads’ as George had jokingly called them on the comedown of one of their more wild parties.

Wilbur really didn’t want to think about the possibility that someday, the people that had witnessed some of his greatest lows, and his greatest highs, wouldn’t be  _ in  _ his life.

-he cuts himself off, leaning toward to snatch a beer off of the glass table, one that had probably been through far too much. 

That was a dark thought process he was wandering down, one that was reserved for the middle of the night when he could pretend he never thought of it in the morning, and  _ not  _ when he was happily trying to get wasted with his friends.

“Sapnap,” Niki starts sweetly, and Wilbur already  _ knows  _ how this is going to go, “You literally burnt water the other day. I don’t even know how.”

_ “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT _ .” Sapnap yells back, a red-flush covering his cheeks as the others howled with laughter, Wilbur remembers that day; him, Sapnap, and Niki had decided to make something in preparation for the movie night the group was having, piling into Niki’s house while her family was out. 

It was a weird group, but everyone had been busy at that specific time, leaving only the three of them able to mess around beforehand. 

Sapnap had been left in charge of the water, and somehow the younger teen had managed to  _ burn  _ the water, as they realised upon it making some  _ horrifying  _ noises. The resulting panic as Niki tried to make sure the kitchen didn’t get set on fire was hysterical.   
  
To Wilbur at least. They haven’t quite let Sapnap it down since. 

“Sap, you nearly set my kitchen on fire.” 

“I’m a new person now. I’ve changed.” 

Wilbur allowed himself to slip into the comfortable atmosphere of the party, with his friends making shitty jokes and talking about stuff that didn’t even matter. He would go back home soon, and he would pretend he had his shit together, but for now he was able to just  _ chill.  _

  
  
  


**______________**

  
  
  


Wilbur wakes up sometime later, not even realising that he had fallen asleep in the first place. His eyes feel crusty when he opens them, and he feels a wave of nausea go through him at the disorientation.    
  
“Wha-” He starts, blinking up at….Schlatt? blearily, and he notices after a moment, that the sound has all died down, and that there's a lack of bright lights flashing around his eyes. Dream’s parties were usually exciting up into the AMs, but he at least had his shit together enough to not let them run too late into the mornings when they all had school the next day. 

“We need to get you home, Virgo, you’re nearly past your lovely set-curfew.” Schlatt whispers, surprisingly quiet considering how much of a loud asshole he usually was. 

“Ugh, right.”    
  
“Lets go, I do  _ not  _ want to be the one your dad yells at if you don’t get home on time.” Schlatt sounds genuinely afraid at the prospect of Phil being mad at him, and Wilbur can’t help the reflective snicker at it, Phil rarely got angry at them, Wilbur had only been yelled at a few times since he came to live with Phil, and those times were only for serious things.    
  
It used to weird him out when he and Techno were placed in his care, they spent the first few months waiting for the other shoe to drop, like they had become so accustomed to, before they began to settle down; much to Phil’s probable relief. 

He forced himself to stand up after a moment, feeling his spine and legs crack as he stood, before turning to follow Schlatt as he said goodbye to a Dream that for  _ some  _ reason was working on an english essay due soon.    
  
Man, Wilbur really should start it, huh. 

  
  
  


________________

Schlatt drops him at his house only a few minutes before his curfew hits, and Wilbur sends through a confirmation text to his dad as he watches Schlatt make the way back to his own house, as he once again rejected Wilbur’s offer to just let him stay at his house for the night.    
  
When he walked back into his house, taking extra care to quietly close the front door and  _ not  _ accidentally crash into it, he did not expect to turn around and see his pink-haired twin frozen in the kitchen, clutching a familiar red bag of chips in his hand.

“Techno is that the last bag of doritos?” Wilbur asks, eyes narrowing, his headache nearly forgotten    
  
“Maybe.” Techno responds, fingers curling around the bag tightly. They stared at each other for a moment, and Wilbur was seriously considering whether he could tackle his brother and  _ not  _ either wake up Phil, or end up with a broken bone.    
  
“If you share the chips, I’ll tell Phil you were asleep when I got home and  _ weren’t  _ planning to stay up all night.” Wilbur asks after a moment, taking a guess at what Techno had been up doing. 

‘Fine. Go sit on the couch.” Techno groans after a moment, making a shooing motion in Wilbur’s direction.    
  
They piled onto the couch together, the only light around them being the lights on the fridge, and the light coming from the TV that’s remote Wilbur was fumbling with while logging onto Netflix.    
  
“You smell like weed and gross shit, Phil is going to bust your ass for sure.” Techno pipes up after a moment, side-eyeing Wilbur from where he was crunching on a chip. 

“Nah, I’ll just shower before I speak to him, he’ll never know. Not unless you snitch.” Wilbur didn’t think he would, Techno and him had made a promise when they were both still little kids, had promised that no matter who asked, or what they had done; they wouldn’t snitch on the other. 

“I really don’t need the fallout drama if I tell Phil you were off getting high.”    
  
Wilbur glances at his twin properly for the first time in a while, taking in the bags under his eyes, and the shaking of his hands. He looks at his own reflection on the TV screen and honestly he doesn’t look much better. It’s almost funny to him. Still, he’s seen Techno lose it once before, he still can’t forget how it felt to see Techno lying there unmoving.    
  
He’s forever glad Tommy hadn’t come to live with them yet; that wasn’t something he wanted his little brother to have to see.    
  
“Tech, you would tell me if something was wrong right?” Wilbur whispers around a mouth-full of chips, almost afraid to say it too loudly. 

“Yeah. Obviously. You would too, yeah?” 

“Of course.”    
  
It’s bullshit, they both  _ know  _ it’s bullshit. They were too similar in some of the worst ways; they would genuinely prefer to implode than ask somebody for help. 

Neither of them say anything. 

“Did you hear that Sapnap got himself stuck on the school roof on Monday?” Wilbur asks suddenly, already snickering at the story that Dream had told him earlier tonight.”    
  
“What? How-” 

  
Wilbur begins to explain the story, having to keep pausing to laugh and catch his breath. It was nice, it had been awhile since the two of them had really hung out, and with the documentary playing quietly in the darkened room; it was comforting.    
  
It felt like when they were kids again, before their biological parents turned into such dicks; when they used to pile under blankets in Wilbur’s room and tell ghost stories. When they could forget anything that was going on around them.    
  
For a moment, Techno wasn’t on a spiral downwards, one that Wilbur knew he would never admit to, and Wilbur’s wasn’t lying to the ones he cares about, breaking their trust in horrific ways. 

For a moment, it was peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you notice any mistakes, no you don’t❤️ I wrote most of this on painkillers so I am Praying it’s coherent LMAO. I hope you enjoyed!! I thought I would be free from my minecraft obsession by now and yet-

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo uhhh thoughts?? its my first time writing something this level + fandom So. I just look at the SBI and im like "man I can fuck them up so bad." 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed !!


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